


Absolute

by sciencefictioness



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Another One Of Those Post Episode Seven Smut Fics, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, It's The Episode 8 Preview's Fault This Exists, M/M, Sub Viktor Nikiforov, There's A Tag For That, Tie Kink, You Know You're Not Tired Of Them Yet, dominant yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8613136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: There was nothing in him he would not give to Viktor.  Nothing he wouldn’t let him keep safe, even with faltering hands, an errant tongue, stumbling feet.  They could spend forever tripping over one another, and through the ache of the bruises of their misstepping, Yuuri knew there would always be a hand there to pull him back upright.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my contribution to the 'post episode seven' party, a little late, but I hope you enjoy. When they showed that tie pulling scene in the episode eight preview I was helpless not to write tie kink. Thanks @ aivelin for throwing some Russian at me, it's always much appreciated.

For a handful of moments, everything had been reduced to sensation.  To the feeling of falling, weightless, the sound of the crowd nothing more than an echo in his ears.  

 

Viktor’s lips were on his own, and not for the first time, but this time for everyone to see.  They said things without words.  Things that Yuuri knew already, that Viktor had whispered soft against his skin, but laid out for countless sets of eyes, beneath the flash of a thousand cameras… it was louder.  Fiercer.  Undeniable.

 

_ ‘Yes, look, this one is mine.’ _

 

He’d been so caught up in stealing Viktor from the world, Yuuri hadn’t realized he’d been stolen, too.  Tucked away in Viktor’s arms, a familiar mouth moving against his, long fingers threading possessively into his hair.  Yuuri realized far too late just how thoroughly he’d been  _ taken. _

 

With the ice like stone against his back, Viktor’s weight pressing down on him, limbs falling together in motions that weren’t practiced but remembered, Yuuri didn’t mind.

 

There was nothing in him he would not give to Viktor.  Nothing he wouldn’t let him keep safe, even with faltering hands, an errant tongue, stumbling feet.  They could spend forever tripping over one another, and through the ache of the bruises of their misstepping, Yuuri knew there would always be a hand there to pull him back upright.  

 

Someone warm to keep the chill of the ice at bay, bright eyes glittering with pride, even if he’d fallen, or lost, or failed.

 

_ ‘This was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you’ve surprised me.’ _

 

Viktor  _ had  _ surprised him, and hours later, after interviews and endless congratulations from his fellow skaters, his friends, Yuuri could still feel his heart beating too fast in his chest.  When they’d shut themselves away in the changing room so Yuuri could shower, Viktor had unzipped his costume from behind, agonizingly slow.  His palms lingered hungrily on Yuuri’s flesh, working the clinging fabric down his arms, breath hot in Yuuri’s hair.  Every touch hung on too long, Viktor’s face nuzzled affectionately into Yuuri’s throat, voice low and sweet and worshipful.

 

_ ‘You were beautiful out there for me, darling,’  _ and Yuuri wanted to eat Viktor alive.

 

The fucking  _ tease.  _  They still had to navigate through crowds of reporters and excited fans,  they didn’t have time for the kind of devastation Yuuri wanted to put Viktor through right then.  He’d been such a  _ shit, _ and then he’d gone and kissed Yuuri on national television without warning, and there was too much going on inside Yuuri’s head for him to sort out with words or looks or niceties.

 

The only way to work through the din of emotion roaring inside Yuuri was with ungentle hands, and sharp teeth, and the heat Viktor’s skin on his tongue.

 

Even in the privacy of their hotel rooms, during the stillness of practice or underneath Yuuri’s too-soft blankets, it was hard to believe that Viktor really wanted him.  That he would choose Yuuri, of all people, to pin with that needful stare of his.  To touch, to taste.  When Yuuri closed his eyes he could hear Viktor’s voice in his head, in English, in Russian, in Japanese.

 

_ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

 

Knowing Viktor loved him and understanding it were two different things, and Yuuri had yet to reconcile them.  He’d woken morning after morning tangled in Viktor’s arms, fallen asleep night after night listening to Viktor’s soft snores, waiting for that moment of epiphany to arrive.

 

_ Yes, this is real, _ but Yuuri still felt like he was sleepwalking through some fantasy most of the time.  He wasn’t sure precisely when idolization had turned into adoration, only that it hit him hard.  Viktor wasn’t perfect, Yuuri had figured that out during those first few weeks together, but instead of wanting Viktor less in the face of his flaws Yuuri wanted him  _ more. _

 

Viktor was real, and vibrant, and alive, and Yuuri wanted to take every inch of him and hide it away for himself alone.

 

So he’d trained, and practiced, and worked himself so hard it was all he could do to keep his feet sometimes, Viktor’s watchful stare driving him to be better, faster, stronger.  Viktor broke something open inside of Yuuri, and he couldn’t help but let everything out, spill himself onto the ice and hold nothing back.  They’d fallen into each other, drawn together like magnets.

 

Pulled into one another like gravity, and Yuuri shattered against Viktor and became something new in the wake of their mutual destruction.

 

Made Viktor new, too.

 

And now this man Yuuri spent his whole life chasing after from afar had kissed him in front of everyone, untroubled by what people would say, would think, would do.  All he cared about was Yuuri, and the way his cheeks would go pink, his eyes wide, his body frozen in shock.  

 

Yuuri mattered more to Viktor than anything else, and the mere idea of it crawled underneath Yuuri’s skin and set him on fire until he could barely breathe.

 

The hotel room door clicked shut behind them, and Yuuri barely gave them time to kick off their shoes before he was on Viktor.  He slammed into him, his bag forgotten in the entryway, and started  tugging off Viktor’s jacket as he shoved their mouths together.  Yuuri’s hands fisted themselves in Viktor’s shirt, tongue slipping desperately between his lips, every movement laced with need.  Viktor’s surprised little whimper was immensely gratifying, and Yuuri swallowed it as he forced Viktor backwards until his knees hit the bed and they went down in a heap onto the mattress.  Yuuri didn’t break away from the kiss, just urged Viktor higher on the bed, fingers working to unknot his tie.  

 

Viktor laughed against Yuuri’s mouth, clearly amused by his shameless urgency.

 

“Yuuri…”  

 

Yuuri leaned back, barely a breath of space between them, pausing in his efforts to undo the buttons on Viktor’s shirt.  He reached up, brows furrowed, and pressed a thumb into Viktor’s bottom lip.

 

“You kissed me.”  He was close, his accusation brushing gentle over Viktor’s wet mouth.  Viktor just smiled, stroking Yuuri’s dark, damp hair, far too pleased with himself.

 

“I kiss you all the time, Yuuri.”  

 

It came out singsong and amused, and Yuuri let out a shivering exhale, closing the gap until he could feel the touch of Viktor’s lips with every word.  His eyes flitted wildly over Viktor’s face as he spoke, unable to find somewhere to settle, wanting to dart everywhere at once.

 

“You kissed me in front of  _ everyone. _ ”

 

Viktor had the decency to look a bit troubled at Yuuri’s serious tone, fingertips dancing over his cheekbones, head tilted to the side with worry.  Stray hair fell into his eyes, longer than it had been when they met, and Yuuri absently wondered if he could convince him to grow it out again.

 

“Should I not have?  Did it bother you?” 

 

Yuuri could feel the disbelief painting his features, even as his mouth turned up in a half smile.

 

“Did it bother me?”  Yuuri kissed him, again and again, murmuring quietly between brushes of their lips.  “Did it  _ bother  _ me?”  He mouthed his way down Viktor’s jaw, teeth sinking into his throat, pulling his shirt apart so violently that the remaining buttons went scattering to the floor.  “Yes, Viktor, I am  _ bothered. _ ”

 

In one rough tug he jerked Viktor’s tie from his collar, seizing his wrists and haphazardly tying them together, sucking a dark bruise into the pale skin of his shoulder all the while.  The knot was messy, but snug enough to do the job, Viktor’s breath catching in surprise as Yuuri pulled the fabric taut.  He’d tied Viktor up before, but there was always something unhurried about it, something slow and sensual.

 

As he bound the loose end of Viktor’s tie to the headboard above him, Yuuri felt frantic with want.  A press of their lips under bright lights to the roar of a crowd, and Viktor had given himself to Yuuri all over again.  Had given him the whole world without even trying.

 

Yuuri could give himself back, could do nothing else in that moment, frenzy arcing through him so sharp it was almost frightening.  Viktor fought weakly against his bonds as Yuuri licked and nipped down his chest, lifting his hips without hesitation when his belt was undone.  Yuuri made short work of the rest of Viktor’s clothes, leaning back to kneel between Viktor’s legs.  Some of his inner turmoil fell away once Viktor was laid bare, a sense of calm rolling over him.  Yuuri took a deep breath, fingertips sinking absently into Viktor’s thighs, and _ stared.  _

 

Looking at Viktor wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.  That fact that he was allowed to see him like that, naked and vulnerable and wanting, made Yuuri’s world spin unsteady around him.  Viktor’s hair was wild, dress shirt falling open and rucked up around his ribs, cheeks blushing pink under Yuuri’s gaze.  There were a handful of marks from Yuuri’s mouth blossoming across his shoulder, his collarbones, his stomach.  Some of them had the undeniable imprint of Yuuri’s teeth around them, bright red with angry lines at the edges, and he had a brief moment of longing for the onsen.

 

Somewhere all that beautiful damage would be on display, Yuuri’s claim there for everyone to take in.

 

He spread Viktor’s thighs wide, splaying him open even further, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.  Viktor was hard, a bead of pearly fluid leaking from the flushed head of his cock where it peeked out of his foreskin.  It twitched as Yuuri watched the drop slick its way down Viktor’s shaft, his hips shifting restlessly, and then Viktor let out a whimpering noise that a lesser man might have been ashamed of.

 

But this was Viktor, and Yuuri didn’t think he understood what shame was, anyway.  

 

“Давай.  Пожалуйста, Yuuri .”  The words had been foreign once, but he’d heard them enough now that his mind offered up a translation without effort.

 

_ Come on.  Please, Yuuri. _

 

None of the Russian Yuuri knew would be of any use in polite company.  

 

Not unless he needed to beg desperately for something.

 

And Yuuri couldn’t say no to Viktor’s pleading.  He couldn’t say yes, either.  Couldn’t say anything at all, mouth dry and throat tight, eyes stinging behind the lenses of his glasses.  He snagged the lube they’d left on the bedside table, the bottle knocked over and pooling clear liquid on the wooden surface where it had been carelessly discarded the night before.  Once his fingertips were dripping with it he threw it aside, leaning forward to take Viktor’s mouth.  His fingers slipped between Viktor’s cheeks, and Yuuri grinned against his lips when Viktor rutted down into them.  He rubbed slow circles against him, pressing down but not in, delighting in the needy sounds Viktor made.  Yuuri broke away from the kiss, brushing his lips feather light against Viktor’s cheeks, his nose, his jaw.

 

“You kissed me in front of thousands of people.”  Viktor nodded, whining, hips rocking into Yuuri’s fingers in an effort to coax him to action.  Yuuri ignored him, still kneading him idly, and continued.  “So thoughtless.  Your fans will be scandalized.”  Viktor took a shaky breath, pulling pitifully against the tie that bound his wrists more out of habit than any desire to break free, and his voice was absolutely wrecked.

 

“D-don’t care.  Had to kiss you, you were perfect.”

 

It wasn’t true.  He’d screwed up more than once, pulled off some sloppy jumps, totally botched his landing at the end.  Still, he knew what Viktor meant.  Yuuri felt the same way, in spite of all of Viktor’s fuck ups.

 

_ You’re perfect to me. _

 

Yuuri pressed two fingers into Viktor, slow and easy, nosing into mussed gray locks and reveling in Viktor’s moans.  With his free hand he reached up to pet Viktor’s hair, leaving his throbbing arousal untouched.  He kissed him again, messy and graceless, moisture leaking between their mouths.  Viktor tried to reciprocate, mostly failing as Yuuri fucked him open with infinite patience, unable to do much more than pant into his mouth.  

 

So Yuuri sucked at his tongue, and stroked the hair out of his eyes, and teased him until he was sweating, his thighs shaking.  He mewled out a constant stream of hushed profanities, and Yuuri kissed them away lovingly.  

 

“Fuck, _ please  _ Yuuri,  _ now… _ ”

 

“Shhh, just,”  Yuuri edged a third finger into him, still carefully avoiding his prostate, just to watch him tremble,  “Be patient.”

 

After all he’d put Yuuri through, well intentioned though he may have been, he could endure a little more teasing.  Viktor’s arms quaked under the strain as he fought thoughtlessly against the tie, and he dug his heels into Yuuri’s spine, trying to spur him on.  When that didn’t work he slid his feet uselessly against the sheets seeking some kind of leverage, cock leaking obscenely onto his stomach.  Viktor arched into him, grinding his erection as best he could into Yuuri, overheated skin dragging against rumpled fabric.  It wasn’t a good angle.  He couldn’t get enough friction, and Yuuri tried not to smile against his cheek as Viktor keened in frustration.

 

He was flawless this way, wretched with want.  Broken down into needful pieces, staggeringly beautiful.

 

“Yuuuuuuri…  you’re still wearing clothes, why are you still wearing clothes…”

 

Yuuri hummed in reply, withdrawing his fingers from Viktor’s heat to pull off his shirt and discard it.  He unbuckled his pants, shoving them down his thighs but not bothering to remove them altogether.  He pulled himself free from his boxers, laughing when Viktor instinctively threw his knees wide.  Yuuri fisted his cock, rubbing the crown against Viktor’s stretched rim, drinking in his shaky noises.  He leaned down to kiss the slick corner of Viktor’s mouth, glasses nudging into Viktor’s cheek.  Yuuri pushed in just slightly, Viktor’s body brutally tight around him, and whispered low.

 

“Ask nicely.”

 

“Yuuri, please, I love you, please.”  Before he was finished speaking, Yuuri was already complying, inching his way inside in one slow thrust.  Viktor’s head slammed into the headboard, mouth falling open on a gasp, and he fucked himself down onto Yuuri’s length.  “Да, любимый, just like that…”

 

_ ‘Yes, love, _ just like that,’ and Yuuri couldn’t help but take him.  He hooked his elbows under Viktor’s knees and moved, mouthing at every bit of skin he could get to as he slammed him into the mattress.  Now there was a hickey blooming under Viktor’s jaw, and his lips were swollen from Yuuri’s kisses, red and shining and abused.  The headboard protested with every movement, pounding loudly into the wall, and out of the corner of his eyes Yuuri could see Viktor’s hands opening and closing around empty air.  Seeking something to ground himself in the wash of sensation, and Yuuri bent him in half to lean up and press a kiss into each of his grasping palms.

 

Viktor mumbled out incoherent nonsense, fingers grabbing mindlessly at Yuuri’s face before he pulled back and took his mouth again.  It didn’t stop him from murmuring Yuuri’s name into his lips, half formed cries for  _ more, yes, right there, faster… _

 

Yuuri obeyed, grinding harder into Viktor and reaching up to push his glasses back into place, unwilling to let Viktor’s face vanish into a blur.  Not right then.  He was close, his body tensing around Yuuri’s length, muscles of his abdomen twitching, his spine curving.  Yuuri wanted to watch him break apart, wanted to see his face dissolve into ecstasy as he had so many times before.  Viktor’s breath came faster, his eyes wrenching shut, hips moving down to meet Yuuri’s every thrust with reckless abandon.  Yuuri flattened his palms against Viktor’s ribs, feeling them flex with each ragged inhale, his lust a living thing beneath Yuuri’s hands.

 

Viktor came with broken cry of Yuuri’s name, his come slicking between them as Yuuri fucked him through it.  When the rush of orgasm faded away and Viktor blinked those bright eyes open to look at Yuuri from beneath long, wet eyelashes, panting and smiling in the wake of euphoria, he couldn’t help but follow after him.  

 

_ ‘I love you, I love you,’ _ and he came with his hips jolting unevenly against Viktor, forehead pressed into his chest.

 

When he was capable of doing more than just existing, more than just breathing into Viktor’s skin and clinging to him, Yuuri eased back to look at him.  Beautiful in the aftermath of Yuuri’s assault, love drunk and hazy, exquisitely fucked-out as always.  Viktor grinned, shifting his hands where they were still tied, cocking his head.

 

“Are you going to untie me now?”

 

Yuuri stroked Viktor’s hair away from his eyes, still buried inside him, thumb brushing over his cheekbones.

 

“Should I?”

 

It was a rhetorical question,and one that Viktor didn’t attempt to answer.  He knew better.

 

Yuuri didn’t untie him.  Just kissed him until they were both hard again, kicked his pants the rest of the way off, and then flipped him over.  Viktor clung to the headboard, his face pressed into the wood, cock leaving milky streaks on it as Yuuri took him.  Only when he came a second time did Yuuri unknot the tie and release him, turning Viktor back around in his arms.  Viktor sat in Yuuri’s lap, boneless against him, and let Yuuri rut lazily up into him.  Unhurried, as though uninterested in his own completion, just burying himself as deep as he could go and then grinding impossibly further.  His fingertips sank into the swell of Viktor’s ass, clutching too hard, and the next day there would be little bruises peppered over the skin.

 

After what felt like an eternity of heat and motion Yuuri finally finished, erupting into Viktor with a breathless groan before collapsing onto the bed.  He tugged Viktor onto his chest, tangling their legs together, eyes already wanting to close.  Neither one of them made any move to clean up, other than Yuuri using a corner of the sheet to swipe absently between Viktor’s thighs.  Yuuri kissed the red marks circling Viktor’s wrists, or the one he could reach anyway, Viktor’s other arm pressed awkwardly between them.  They lay there without speaking, only the sounds of their breathing breaking the quiet.  Exhaustion tugged at him hard, and considering how still Viktor was against him, Yuuri thought he’d already fallen asleep.

 

Then there was a heavy sigh, and-

 

“I really liked that tie.”

 

Yuuri laughed, kissing the top of Viktor’s head, pulling off his glasses and setting them on the nightstand.

 

“Not as much as I did.”

 

Viktor reached up to pull his hair, and Yuuri let him, catching his hand on the way down and nuzzling into his palm.  He fell asleep with Viktor’s fingers curling against his cheek, all the lights still on, the smell of sex heavy in the room.

 

A soft  _ I love you  _ in his ears, and even if he only mumbled out an unintelligible noise in response, it was okay.

  
Viktor knew.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Give me some love, I'm sick and needy and emotional about ice skating gays.


End file.
